30 Days in Paradise
by TheChimeraSculptress
Summary: Take one Marie. One Logan. One tropical island. Simmer for thirty days...need I say more? A little bit silly, a little bit serious, but a lot of romance...eventually!
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Take one Marie. One Logan. One tropical island. Simmer for thirty days...need I say more? A little bit silly, a little bit serious, but a lot of romance...eventually!

* * *

**_Part One - A Bizarre Announcement_**

In all honesty, when the Professor announced one morning that he had bought an island in the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua, it didn't come as much of a shock. The man seemed to have an infinite supply of funds, which still, five years after I first stepped through the fancy doors of his _School for the Gifted_, I have no idea of the source. I don't think anyone does, except maybe Jean, for she has been his student the longest, and, well, you know what they say, like sticks with like, them both being telepaths and all...

There's that expression - money doesn't grow on trees - but in the Professor's case, I seriously started to wonder if he didn't, in fact, have a crop of mutated Firs tucked away somewhere, that by some freak of nature, had started to flower money instead of needles. The world was changing at an alarming rate. Mutants, after all, were popping up left, right and centre, so why should trees be any different?

But I'm going off on a tangent here. Let's return to the subject at hand...

The island.

33.5 acres, 4 miles from the mainland, dry season from Jan 1 to May 15, average temperature about 80 deg F all year around. Coconut trees. Vibrant bird life. Sandy beaches. Nothing poisonous.

Your typical tropical fantasy.

Nice.

Or so we thought...

Scott immediately decided it would be a great place for him and Jean to get married and even spend their honeymoon. They hadn't set a proper date but everyone knew it was inevitable. Now it seemed that the Professor's sudden purchase might hurry things along a bit.

The Professor agreed that the island, would indeed, be an ideal place for such an event, but stressed that it couldn't be for at least six months. That's when he dropped the bombshell. The reason _why _ he had bought the island in the first place.

Just think Tom Hanks in 'Castaway' but without the tragic plane crash. Or 'Survivor' but with less people and without the cash prize.

Two people in fact. Two X-Men, names plucked at random over a six-month period, deposited on a small tropical island, with just the basics, no outside contact (except for emergencies only), not allowed to use their mutant abilities in any way (again, except for emergencies only!)...and here's the kicker...here's where the warning bells start tolling in your ears...for thirty days!

Thirty days!

One whole month!

Now you might think I'm panicking unnecessarily. A gorgeous tropical island, you protest, with sandy beaches, unrelenting sunrays, gently swaying palm trees...

Yeah, great if you have a five star hotel behind you pampering to your every whim, but let me repeat one more time - just-the-basics. That means no luxuries, minimal food, a meagre offering of essentials like matches, torches, sun-block, first aid kit - blah blah blah, - and no shelter - we have to make that ourselves on day one.

And if that wasn't Robinson Crusoe enough, we were to discover that this island had _never_ been inhabited. Which meant nothing had been built on it. Having to make our own shelter was the _least_ of our worries. There was no power generator, no septic tank, not even a water tower. Nothing had been installed whatsoever. Our only mod con, if you can call it that, was a small well that offered clean fresh water.

Whoopee! Forgive me if I don't leap around with joy!

It transpired that the Professor wanted to test our X-Men credentials to the limit. Wanted to see just how well we could cope, forced to resort to our own devises. Said it would be a good experience for all of us.

Yeah, right! It also_ transpired_ that he wouldn't be doing it though. Being in a wheelchair and all. Now I have every sympathy for paraplegics, and, well, it _would_ have been kinda difficult manoeuvring that big ole chair around the island, but still, I couldn't help but frown, Logan-like, at his easy escape.

The subject of pairing up was the first issue raised. Rather amusingly so. Scott huffed that should a drawing of names bring up Jean and Logan, there was no way on earth he would allow it to happen. Logan threw back that if ended up with Scooter, only one of them was gonna survive the month. And it was gonna be _him_.

Storm, being Storm, was a little more practical and asked why three people could not be drawn instead but the Professor insisted that he wanted as few individuals as possible on the island at any one time, to keep it more isolated, more mentally testing. He added that he _would_ have preferred just one person at a time (I think he _has_ been watching 'Castaway' too many times!) but that it might prove too risky since not everyone shared Logan's healing ability.

And after Scott and Logan's little spat there seemed to be a genuine excitement beginning to develop amongst the group. People seemed to quickly warm to the idea. Perhaps it's because we're kinda different to the outside world, are used to a few knocks, a bit of a struggle, and plenty of battles in our time.

I think we felt that we could rise to the challenge.

I say we, but in truth, I still wasn't sure about me in particular. I can take a bit of roughing it, grudgingly so, but I...I kinda like my luxuries...even the basic ones...like showers and soft mattresses and a little bit of lip gloss...

And it seemed Logan did too. At least the basic ones. The look on his face when he was informed that cigars and beer were included in that off-limits list, was nothing short of priceless! Scott seemed to think so too - cue slanging match number two.

But as I watched them bicker like two overgrown kids I knew only one thing. That I wanted to spend those thirty days with Logan.

Although it terrified me at the time, I knew from the moment I first saw him in that god-awful fighting cage in Laughlin City, that we were destined to be together. I knew, as my timid gaze began to roam his beautiful muscular body, eyes widening with a combination of terror, excitement and, dare I admit it, desire, at the raw animalistic rage on his face, that it wasn't just the typical adolescent fantasy expected of girls my age but something deep and instinctive, an awareness that rose up to engulf me like a wave of fire, enveloping my senses until I could hardly breathe.

Although I did manage to keep on breathing. Just long enough to scream: 'Look out!' when a disgruntled loser of his earlier cage fight made to stick a blade into his back.

He reacted like the wind, so quick, so smooth, so unconsciously, that I was momentarily stunned. No longer by fear or terror or anything negative, but by awe.

And when three metal claws tore out from his knuckles to pin his attacker against the wall, still, I wasn't afraid...simply overwhelmed by the realisation that he was like me.

A mutant.

And this knowledge made my heart soar, because it secured my belief in our shared destiny.

But hey...I'm off on yet another tangent...a tad melodramatic this time...end pretentious background music...

Let me put it more bluntly...

Basically, I fancied the socks off the Wolverine!

And the thought of spending thirty days on a desert island with him was enough to send my hormones into overdrive! Major overdrive!

Could you get a more perfect scenario to turn two close friends into...lovers? And I knew instinctively that my feelings were not one sided. That I wasn't clutching at straws. I could see it. See it in his eyes, in his smile, in the way he moved, the way he breathed when he was around me.

But I could also see what had been holding him back for the past five years. What kept him distant even when he wrapped me in his arms after a particularly trying day. I saw every doubt, every misgiving, every issue associated with age and him not being right, or good enough for me.

But he was cracking under the strain of wanting. The Wolverine wasn't used to not getting what he wanted. Part of me hated seeing him suffer but another part relished every moment of his torment. Because it gave me hope.

And now I was a woman. Twenty-one years of age. And although he fought to keep hold of them, issues were slipping like sand through his fingers.

And I was desperate to be crushed into those golden sands by his hard muscular body.

Tropical island sands to be precise...

I knew that the chances of getting paired up with Logan were slim but I found myself praying every month. Every month that damned draw took place. Destiny owed it to me! To us! We had been _wanting_ for too long now. And...well...it was hard to be open about our emotions at the Institute. When you shared a home with so many prying eyes. It kinda stifled us. Kept holding us back.

Storm and Bobby were drawn first. An unlikely pairing but neither seemed too disappointed. Just kinda surprised. I know Storm would've liked to have been paired with Kurt and probably Bobby with Kitty, but these things are so random. And in this case, are supposed to be. In a crisis you don't know who you're gonna end up with. That was why I still tried not to get my hopes up for me and Logan.

The month passed quickly and Storm and Bobby returned. A little thinner, a little worst for the wear but both admitted that it had been a useful and somewhat humbling experience.

And it was draw time again.

Hank and John.

And then Scott and Jubes.

Jean and Kitty.

Every draw that didn't bring up mine or Logan's name made me breathe a huge sigh of relief. It didn't matter that I was a bundle of nerves by month five, my anticipation stretched to breaking point. All that mattered was our odds were getting better.

I think it was getting to Logan too. Because from the moment the Professor first announced his incredible purchase he began to change. Started to act strange around me. Nothing that affected our friendship as such, but that _look_ in his eyes began to burn with a greater intensity. With almost a desperation. I just knew it would ignite once we stepped onto that island. And I wanted nothing more than have its flame envelop me completely.

"Logan and...Marie."

I couldn't believe it when the Professor said our names. At first I though I was re-living the daydream I had had every day for the past five months.

I felt Jubes dig me in the side with her elbow. "Lucky girl," she whispered enviously.

Yet as the good news sunk in I accepted that, deep down, I had expected it all along. Knew that destiny wouldn't abandon us. It was steering these events just like it had steered me into that freezing trailer all those years ago. Scott's tut didn't really surprise me. Actually, several eyebrows were raised, although not one of them belonged to the master of brow-raising himself. If anything, Logan seemed pretty taken aback. Shocked.

And...scared?

It was at that moment that I began to have doubts, wondering if all those looks, all of my romantic notions, were nothing but wishful thinking? What if I was creating it all - that it was all in my head?

As I watched Logan, for the first time ever I couldn't, for the life of me, read the look on his face. Couldn't work out what that fear meant.

And that's when I got scared.

What if he _did_ just see us as friends?

Thirty days, I reminded myself, and the words began to echo around my head like some haunting melody.

Thirty days...

The Professor snapped me out of my worrying reverie when I felt him slip a small book into my hands.

"One luxury I _will_ permit," he started kindly. "Should you choose to use it." I peered down blankly at the small, hardback journal.

"It is, and will always remain, private," the Professor reassured. "So feel free to write from the heart."

I was aware of Scott making some sarcastic remark to Logan, no doubt about _writing from the heart_, but somehow, I couldn't register the words. Couldn't summon the strength to.

Overwhelmed by all manner of emotions, the silliest thought suddenly entered my head.

What if my pen should run out half way through the thirty days?

Would Logan let me use his?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Part Two - Project Castaway**_

**_Days 1-15_**

_Marie's Log  
Day One_

Well, we're here. Me. Logan. All alone, on a beautiful tropical island. I've dreamt of this moment practically every night for the past five torturous months, yet now it has become a reality I'm...well...to put it bluntly, kinda scared. And it has nothing to do with being stranded or a lack of luxuries and everything to do with the most important guy in the world to me... talking of which...

First thing he did was complain about the heat. Grumbled that he preferred the cold. It was kinda endearing. Only Logan can look cute when he is in whinging-mode.

I didn't complain when he stripped down to some skimpy jean shorts though - woof woof! Mere mortal words cannot _begin_ to describe the perfection that is that man's chest - I think it was a gift bestowed from the gods! I could just imagine Aphrodite having the hots for him!

But what is it with that darned belt buckle? He still wore it with his shorts! Forget mutations, I'm beginning to wonder if _it's_ secretly the source of all his powers. You know, like with Samson it was the hair? And I seriously think I'm gonna have to persuade him to take it off at some stage during this month, just to test my theory.

I noticed his eyes grew a little larger when I also stripped down to shorts and a bikini top. Not sure whether it was the shock of seeing me in so little or because he was admiring the _scenery _ so to speak. Thank god I've been working out extra hard in the Danger Room! Developed myself a decent set of abs over the last few months. Almost good enough to rival that chest of his. But joking aside, I must admit that it's a relief that I can control my mutation now because I don't think I could survive this heat under a multitude of layers!

Oh damn it! The torch is failing me already! Bet someone purposely put in duff batteries for a laugh. It stinks of something Jubes would do! And I haven't even got to the bit about the coconut...

_Logan's Log  
Day One_

I aint writin' in no pansy-ass journal!  
P.S...And coconuts can go to hell!

_Marie's Log  
Day Two_

OK...am writing in the light today and I don't think the sun can fail me! Now where was I...Logan moaning...us stripping...right...

Yeah, well next Logan complained about the supplies we had been left. Said that he wasn't a rice and noodles kinda guy and that all dried stuff (the bulk of our rations) tasted as bland as shit. I gestured to the ocean but he said that he isn't that keen on fish either! That he needed _proper_ meat. Jeeze! There's no pleasing that guy!

It was a toss up between making a shelter or exploring the island first. I favoured the latter whilst Logan was eager to get the shelter made (what is it with men and DIY!? It seems even Logan can't resist banging bits of wood together!). Cue my little ole begging eyes and I got my tour! They never fail me where Logan is concerned.

And the island doesn't disappoint.

In a nutshell (or perhaps a coconut shell, in this case - ha ha - more about that later!) it consists of a central area of forest (rainforest, I guess) that is surrounded by tall palm trees and sandy beach. There's also a little crop of jagged rocks rising up into a gentle incline (which I've named: Logan's Lookout!) at one end. Not too large, not too small. Just big enough for two. Cosy! (pun intended!)

Logan was pleased to discover a family of wild pigs on the island, said he wouldn't have to live on fish after all. I was appalled by what he was implying and said that he wasn't to lay a finger on those cute little piggies! He reluctantly agreed but I don't trust him. There was an evil glint in those hazel eyes of his as he promised, like, just for a second, the Wolverine rose to the surface and took centre stage.

Making the shelter was hilarious. At least _I _ found it funny. Unable to use his claws, Logan got pissed pretty quickly, complaining (yet again), that the previous groups had just about worn down the few tools we had been left. I honestly thought he'd sod the rules and pop his claws, but he didn't. Just scowled, scrubbed a hand across his face and looked thoughtful for a bit. It took most of the afternoon but our shelter wasn't half bad by the end.

Looking kinda smug Logan folded his arms and leaned back against a palm tree to admire his handiwork (I admit that it was about 80 percent his creation!)... Cue one falling coconut...

I'll tell you one thing. If he didn't have a metal skull I honestly think that big ole nasty coconut would have probably killed him. Outright.

Five minutes he was dead to the world whilst I was panicking, assuming the worst. When he finally blinked open his eyes the first thing he said was "fuckin' coconuts!" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry but ended up blubbering like a baby into his chest (any excuse!) as he rubbed my back comfortingly, insisting that he was just glad it hadn't been me it had hit. He's warned me to give the palm trees a wide birth from now on, just in case.

Oh man! Sorry - gotta go! That sunset is amazing!

_Logan's Log  
Day Two_

*Message from Marie - Yes you ARE gonna write in this journal!*  
Reply from Logan - make me!  
P.S. Respect a man's privacy, why don't ya?

_Marie's Log  
Day Three_

Morning entry...  
Logan's fishing from the rocks at the other end of the island. Hope he catches some nice big fish because, to tell you the truth, I've never been much of a rice and noodles kinda girl either.

I think I've guessed why he's been so cranky for the past few days. Beer and cigar withdrawal! Although mostly beer. I also think he is purposely avoiding me so that he _can't_ get cranky at me. Poor Logan. Wish I had the power to turn coconuts into beer cans.

The sunset last night was breath-taking. Logan and I watched it together, sitting on the beach, his arm wrapped tightly around me. We sat right until it disappeared into the horizon. I was hoping the romantic setting would result in something physical, even just a kiss, but the moment the sun was gone Logan stood up and said we might as well get an early night since it was dark anyway.

Think I might have misread all those _looks_ over the years.

I also think this might turn out to be a_ long_ thirty days.

*Sigh*.

P.S...I'm gonna have to hide this journal now that I've started writing stuff like that. Just in case Logan reads it like I keep reading his! Although in my defence, he just leaves it lying there on his sleeping bag, literally screaming 'read me!' Am beginning to think he does it on purpose.

Evening Entry...  
Ah! Every girl deserves a Logan. Not only did he return from his fishing trip with four huge fish but he had also been checking out the island more thoroughly and on his travels found some edible fungi (sounds gross, tasted great!), some sort of berries (pleasantly sharp) and quail eggs. We have just had ourselves a major feast and are now vegging out on the beach with contented smiles on our faces.

And it seems that food puts Logan's mind off beer and cigars, at least for a little while. He hasn't been cranky all evening.

I could really get used to this castaway lark!

_Logan's Log  
Day Three_

Gimme a fuckin' beer! Somebody!  
P.S. There ya go, Marie. Made an entry. Now get off my case.

_Marie's Log  
Day Four_

It's torture to wake up beside Logan every morning and not take advantage of the fact. I know that we both have separate sleeping bags but I have to seriously fight the urge to scoot across in mine and reach down and kiss those delicious lips of his. It doesn't help that a certain part of his anatomy always seems to wake up before him, if you catch my drift, and a thin sleeping bag just isn't able to disguise the fact. (Big boy - hee hee!) I suppose I shouldn't really look...but hey...this is Logan...and I simply have no willpower whatsoever.

_Logan's Log  
Day Four_

Aint no fun dreamin' of beer when you aint got none.  
Fuckin' tormentin' brain.

_Marie's Log  
Day Five_

Last night I thought my luck was in! Felt something gently touch my hair and thought it was Logan coming to his senses at last. Reached up for his hand - or what I thought was his hand - and felt something that was most definitely _not _ Logan.

Cue lots of screaming, Logan waking up and shredding his sleeping bag in his panic, and me running like a bat out of hell from that shelter!

Turned out to be a big ole crab.

Cue lots of Logan laughing. (Bastard!) But he soon stopped laughing when he saw the state of his sleeping bag.

Cue lots of Marie laughing.

Found it hard to get back to sleep after that. Irritatingly, Logan was snoring again within minutes, regardless of shredded sleeping bag. After dreaming that Logan's claws had turned into crab claws and he was chasing me across the beach, I got up the minute the first slither of sun pierced the new day. In hindsight, was worth it for the beautiful sunrise.

Despite his amusement over the whole crab situation, Logan was very sweet though and spent the morning crab-proofing the shelter for me.

_Logan's Log  
Day Five_

Modified the shelter a bit.  
That woman sure as hell can scream!  
Ears are _still_ ringin'.

_Marie's Log  
Day Six_

Wish the island had a waterfall or something that I could bathe provocatively under and have Logan watch me from the shadows and get so turned on that he just can't resist joining me...Hmmm...been reading too much smut on the net, I think!

Instead, I have to haul up a bucket of clean water from the well and have a wash using that. Totally undignified. Although, admittedly, not as bad as our toilet arrangements, which entails taking a wander into the forest, digging a hole and using a leaf or two. Ewwwwww!

_God, I miss bathrooms!_

Did make some friends whilst I was washing though. That cute little family of pigs! The babies, three of them, are adorable! Unfortunately, they were too wary of humans to linger for long and Logan has warned me that wild pigs can get real aggressive if they want to. But I hope to see them again. I feel kinda protective, because Logan seems to lick his lips every time I mention them!

Actually, to be honest, I've noticed him do the same to me on a few occasions. Cannibalism is illegal, right?

_Logan's Log  
Day Six_

Here piggy piggy!  
*Added by Marie - Don't you dare!*

_Marie's Log  
Day Seven_

Getting seriously sick of rice, noodles, crackers and raisons...and they're the more exciting contents of our ration pack! I think Logan is too. I can't believe that we've still got another 23 days to go! I'll have to ask Logan to try to break open a few coconuts tomorrow. Might be amusing, especially since he's not allowed to use his claws.

_Logan's Log  
Day Seven_

Rice tastes like shit.

_Marie's Log  
Day Eight_

After a few hours Logan _finally_ got the hang of opening coconuts. (I was soooooo reminded of poor old Tom Hanks in 'Castaway'!) When I congratulated him for not resorting to using his claws he actually growled at me - ha ha! I've drank so much coconut milk though that I feel a bit sick now.

_Logan's Log  
Day Eight_

Coconut milk tastes crap too!

_Marie's Log  
Day Nine_

Oh, really bad night. Was sick. Lots. All evidence points to the coconut milk. I suggested to Logan that I might be allergic to it. He just rolled his eyes and said that anyone who had drank as much of the stuff as I had, deserved to be sick.

Don't think I like the Castaway-Logan. He's too cranky. I wish someone would just bring him a crate load of beer and cigars and make him happy again!

_Logan's Log  
Day Nine_

I'm sorry.  
*Added by Marie - Apology accepted.*

_Marie's Log  
Day Ten_

For a tough-ass kinda guy, Logan is a real pansy when it comes to water. I think he secretly can't swim. Why else would he refuse to go for a dip on a beautiful hot day when the sun is glistening like gold dust on the water? I could've stayed out there all day!

_Logan's Log  
Day Ten_

I _can_ swim.  
I just don't like water.  
Quit naggin'.

_Marie's Log  
Day Eleven_

I feel kinda bad. It seems the water phobia stems from his nightmares. Being submerged. Logan confessed that he never takes baths, only showers. He said that more open areas of water, like the sea, aren't quite as bad, but he still prefers to steer clear if he can help it. Now I know why he never uses the Institute swimming pool, or goes swimming in the lake, like the rest of us. It isn't just him being his usual anti-social self.

I can't believe that he opened up to me like that. And willingly - without me pushing him into it. It was so special. Made my feelings for him intensify.

_Logan's Log  
Day Eleven_

Never shared that with anyone before.  
Thanks for listening, kid.  
*Added by Marie - Anytime, sugar. xx*

_Marie's Log  
Day Twelve_

OMG! This morning was amazing! I woke early, sensing lots of movement from the corner of my eye. When I focused properly I could see them! Dozens of them! Tiny baby turtles, emerging from eggs that had been buried in the sand. My squeals of delight roused Logan (but minus the claws this time!) and as I gestured wildly to the adorable creatures he grinned and said: "Turtle soup?"

But then a horrid old seagull swooped down and mercilessly snatched one up and I wasted no time in dragging Logan to his feet and insist he help me protect them until they reached the water.

Apart from that poor unfortunate soul that the gull took, we saved every one of those turtles. Every single one! Now I expect that their first few weeks in the water is gonna be very much touch and go, but I feel that I've done my bit.

Spent most of the day with a dopey grin on my face.

Marie! Nature Woman! Protector of Innocents!

_Logan's Log  
Day Twelve_

Damn that woman! She even denies me turtle soup!  
I'm goin' out of my fuckin' mind!  
I need some real meat _bad!_  
And a BEER!

_Marie's Log  
Day Thirteen_

I forgot to tell Logan when I was washing at the well today and he accidentally (yeah - right!) walked in on me! Stared at me really intensely making me blush right down to my naked little ole toes, before mumbling his apologies and walking away. God, I hope he didn't smell how aroused I was.

Or...maybe I do...

_Logan's Log  
Day Thirteen_  
(no entry was made)

_Marie's Log  
Day Fourteen_

I have a worrying feeling that Logan knows where I hide my journal and has been reading it. Because, thinking about it now, some of his entries seem to uncannily answer mine. Although I admit that I did also tease him _verbally_ about not being able to swim. And his apology from day nine might be in response to the day in general.

Well, whatever the reason, I think it will be in my best interests to hide it again.

Although, if he _has_ read any of my previous entries...oh god!

_Logan's Log  
Day Fourteen_

Everythin's changed.

_Marie's Log  
Day Fifteen_

Logan had hidden _his_ diary now! And after writing what he did yesterday too! Damn him!

What did he mean - _"everything's changed?"_ Did he purposely write something cryptic to tease me, leave me hanging? I so want to ask him what he means but somehow...I just can't. I'm scared of his answer, especially under the circumstances...

Well, I've said that he's been cranky literally every day that we've been here but yesterday we had a major row and he just seemed to lose it. I've never seen him so angry or so...and this is the weirdest thing...afraid.

The row was over something so stupid as well. Those pigs! I had been trying to coax one of the baby ones over to me but then the mother made an appearance and charged me. I had to climb up onto the well, and nearly fell in. Luckily Logan heard my shrieking and came to my rescue, scaring the mother off, but that's when he got really mad at me, saying that he had warned me about those pigs and that I should listen for a change - blah blah blah! And then he stormed off and didn't return until hours later.

But _what_ has changed? Was he so angry at me that it has affected our friendship for the worst? Somehow, I can't believe that. We have too much history. Too much mutual respect. Even love.

But if not that...what?!

Perhaps it has something to do with seeing me at the well...

*Sigh*. I just _wish_ I knew how he felt about me, one way or the other. It would make things a lot easier.

Damn it! I'm _determined_ to find that journal of his, even if I have to search every inch of this blasted island!

_Logan's Log (now hidden)  
Day Fifteen_

I love her.  
I love her an' it fuckin' scares the shit outta me.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Part Three**_

**_Day 16 - Peace _**

Marie hummed contentedly to herself as she cleared away the breakfast things - kicking sand over the small fire to gut the flames and collecting up the tin bowls, spoons and saucepan that had been used to prepare and devour a simple meal of porridge made with coconut milk and sprinkled with raisons.

Dumping the dirty utensils into a string bag ready to take to the well to clean, she relished the feel of the sun on her back and the warm grains of sand pushing up between her toes. As she listened to the sounds around her - the gulls screaming overhead, the exotic birds squawking behind in the small copse of rainforest, and the gentle waves lapping lazily against the shore - she indulged herself with a small wistful smile.

She was really beginning to enjoy this simplistic way of life. More than she ever thought she would. The real world seemed a million miles away and it was only this morning that she realised she wasn't missing it at all.

Admittedly, the idea of no make-up, hot water and TV had initially been a little daunting but she had found herself adapting surprisingly fast. And as the days had passed she had come to accept that it was only when you were deprived of those things that you were forced to admit that you didn't really need to be so dependent on them as you were.

It proved to be refreshingly liberating to wake up and face the new day exactly the same way as you had bid it goodnight.

And with the same person...

She sighed wistfully. She could stay here with Logan forever, regardless of whether anything ever happened between them. Because it didn't matter if they were friends or...lovers...the simple fact was, they just seemed to _fit..._work well as a team...very different souls...but a Yin and Yang that _needed_ to be together to seem...complete somehow.

And yet they didn't have to spend every second of every day together either. That was what made their relationship so unique. Although Logan was never far away (it _was_ a tiny island after all) he still liked his time alone, and in a strange way, she enjoyed his absence as much as his company.

It was _knowing_ he was close that reassured her. Gave her peace of mind.

And the solitude on the island was incredibly calming. Was having an amazing affect on her well-being, both internally and externally.

Externally she felt so much healthier, the basic food trimming her of a few stubborn pounds and streamlining her body, as well as making her skin positively glow (at least those parts of her she could see - she had been forbidden to take a mirror!). The glorious weather was also contributing to that _glow_, and she had developed a nice tan, something she never would have dreamed of doing had she not been able to control her mutation still.

As for internally...Marie knew she had a good deal of anger still locked away inside her, what with the whole mutant-issues thing, as well as several frustratingly different people kicking around in her head, but everything seemed to have stilled since coming here. Had suddenly gone quiet. She could think more clearly and didn't have to concentrate so hard to be _herself_.

The island was helping Logan too. Calming some of those inner demons of his. She knew it instinctively. Could hear it in his voice and see it influence and steer his every action. Even something as simple as his walk seemed different, his step possessing more spring, less restraint...

He still moaned about anything and everything - he wouldn't be Logan if he weren't grouchy - but that was just trivial stuff. On the surface. It didn't run deep. But those shadows really seemed to have lifted from his face...

She woke that morning to discover him watching her. His smile, when she sleepily focused upon him, was so gentle and tender, it almost took her breath away. For the first time in all the years she had known him, he seemed at peace.

Her heart ached to see more of_ that_ Logan.

* * *

Logan flicked his gaze away from his fishing float and looked out across the ocean. The sun had turned the great expanse liquid gold and it was so still it seemed almost solid, like you could walk straight across it and head off towards the horizon. In a strange way it reminded him of being back in Canada, when a frozen lake was turned orange by the sunset, and it was only when a seabird splashed through its surface that the illusion was broken.

He had never been a lover of water (at least being in it) but even _he_ had to admit that the scenery here was pretty amazing. Neither could he deny that its warmth seemed to seep down into your skin, deep down into parts of you where you thought nothing could ever possibly penetrate. And like some exotic elixir of life it seemed able to perform miracles.

Where as the cold could numb those inner demons, the heat just melted them away. For the first time since escaping the lab he felt completely at peace.

Happy?

_She_ made him happy.

She had opened a door inside him that had been locked for so many years he couldn't even remember what he had even been hiding behind it.

Himself, perhaps?

The_ real_ Logan?

Wishing he had a cigar, he sighed deeply, sun-bleached shoulders rising and falling despondently. But who was the real Logan? He was so used to maintaining that hard steely persona, forged over years of rage and bitterness, that he had forgotten what it was like to be...natural. To offer a smile that wasn't forced or feigned, or react in a way that wasn't defensive or aggressive.

Yet _she_ made him smile without effort, without cynicism or obligation.

She made him _want_ to smile.

God, she was so beautiful. A gorgeous sassy angel sent to redeem him of his past and offer him a future. A future without facades.

A life.

And fuck, if he didn't want it.

A life.

A life with her.

Nothing else had meaning to him anymore. The thought both unsettled and comforted him.

He had woken early that morning. Watched her sleep for at least ten minutes before she had opened those beautiful doe-like brown eyes.

She had looked so serene, so breathtaking, lying there. And he had known then that he didn't just want to protect her, take care of her, like he had promised all those years ago.

He wanted to let her in.

He wanted her to know the _real_ Logan.

But it was just finding the goddamn words to tell her. He had never been one for sharing anything deep. Christ - small talk was difficult enough! Besides, conversation gave too much away. Could loosen chinks from that protective psychological armour. Other people called it anti-social behaviour; he called it self-preservation. Whilst a small voice deep inside called it fear.

He ignored that small voice, of course. The Wolverine didn't _do_ fear. He balked at the very idea.

Sometimes Logan tired of the Wolverine. Wished he would just disappear behind one of those_ doors_. His alter ego could complicate a lot of things. Stand in the way of a lot of _Logan's_ good intentions.

But not anymore.

It was day sixteen - he made a mental note. That meant he had two weeks to show Marie how much she meant to him.

To tell her that he loved her.

He ran a hand through his hair apprehensively. And try not to fuck things up in the process.

* * *

Marie reached for her journal, having collected it from her hiding place on the way back from cleaning the breakfast things at the well. She was getting a bit bored with adding entries now. Not because she didn't have anything to say as such, but because it was tending to become repetitive. Repetitive in a good way - beautiful weather, beautiful scenery, beautiful man to share it all with - but repetitive all the same.

As she was flicking to a new blank page, however, her eyes caught a flash of ink about half way through. Frowning her puzzlement, at the same time wondering excitedly whether Logan had added something, she quickly re-located the page.

It turned out that it wasn't from Logan at all, but one Charles Xavier.

**_***Congratulations, Castaways, on reaching the half way mark! I hope that you are enjoying your time on the island and are finding it stimulating, both in mind and body.***_**

Not stimulating enough, Marie decided, somewhat dryly.

_*****...As a reward for your labours and sacrifices up until now, it is my pleasure to reveal that a small box of treats has been hidden somewhere on the island and I hope you will not find the following clue to its whereabouts, too taxing -**_

The softest things in the world overcome the hardest things in the world. Through this I know the advantage of taking no action. Lao-tzu, Chinese philosopher (604 BC - 531 BC)

Kindest Regards Charles***

A wide grin stretched across Marie's face and she quickly brought the journal to her lips and gave the page a big old kiss. The Professor was such a sweetheart!

Snapping the book shut she suddenly looked thoughtful, wondering if Logan would have the same message in his journal. And if so, whether he had even noticed it yet. She very much doubted it. He didn't tend to write much as it was and seemed to find it a chore to do so. There was also the fact that the Professor had written _Castaways_ - plural - not just Marie, no doubt expecting her to pass on his words to Logan.

As her eyes flared with mischief her smile turned devious.

So now she had a dilemma.

Should she tell Logan of her discovery so that they could go hunt for the box together (two brains might work out the riddle sooner), or, did she keep the knowledge to herself, try to locate the box alone and then surprise him with it?

She realised that if she _did_ tell Logan he might just disregard the clue and turn the island upside down in an attempt to find those treats. The Professor, being the sweetie he was, was sure to have popped a cigar or two in that box, and Logan would immediately cling to that hope. He was already half crazed from nicotine withdrawal as it was!

Frowning, she pondered the clue some more:

_The softest things in the world overcome the hardest things in the world._

_Through this I know the advantage of taking no action._

Hm...perplexing. Trust the Professor to choose the quote of a philosopher. But she had to admit that the words touched her. The soft and hard could almost represent that fanciful belief of hers...she and Logan...like Yin and Yang...

She sighed gently. But could she ever _overcome_ the Wolverine?

She stood up, looking about her determinedly. Well, right now she had to overcome that riddle first. Damn the Professor and his love affair with words!

Deciding that a walk around the island might prompt some ideas she set off, journal in hand and excitement bubbling up in her stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Days 17 & 18 - A Discovery_**

"You gonna join me fishin' this mornin'?"

Marie shook her head distractedly. "Maybe later, Logan."

"Ya said that last time," he complained, although a slither of amusement snaked through his words.

"Yeah, well I got kinda preoccupied."

He frowned. "What the hell with? This island aint big on entertainment!"

She shrugged. "Just thinking and stuff."

He eyed her incredulously. "Right."

She felt a pang of guilt as she watched him walk away. He had looked almost disappointed. She did genuinely want to fish with him but she had spent practically all of yesterday trying to decipher that damned riddle of the Professors, wandering the island for anything - animal, vegetable or mineral - that might spark an idea.

But then Logan had returned, and she had made dinner, and they had started joking about the bad habits of the X-Men. That had progressed into Logan revealing naughty and embarrassing secrets of the men's locker rooms, and she, in turn, the women's.

It had proven to be a most enlightening conversation, to say the least. And she only hoped that Jean didn't have a toe-sucking fetish. Not if Scott's Athlete's Foot was as bad as he described. Ewwwwwwww!

When it had been her turn, Logan had been fascinated to learn that several of the X-Women sported small tattoos in rather discreet places. The fact that Storm had a tiny rose on her left buttock cheek literally had him salivating. Men, she decided despairingly. It didn't take much!

He had also been amused to learn that she had been tempted to have her own tattoo saying something like _"touch anywhere you like"_ once she had gained control over her mutation, his eyes lighting up wickedly. But joking aside, it was a startling contrast to how she used to feel, trapped in her poison skin. Back then the only tattoo she would have considered was _"TOXIC!"_

As well as pondering riddles to no avail, she had spent much of the previous day nosing around trying to locate the hiding place of Logan's journal. Despite the recent distraction, she hadn't forgotten that final entry of his and it was still concerning her. Several times she had almost blurted out to Logan that she had read it and wanted to know exactly what had changed between them, but every time she had chickened out.

The fact that Logan seemed to be spending all his time fishing at the opposite end of the island now, only added to her fears. She knew that she was probably making mountains out of molehills - there wasn't a lot else for him to do really - and in all honesty, when they were together Logan was basically the same as he had always been. There was just something different in his eyes. It was only subtle, and it wasn't always there, but...

Marie, she scolded. Stop it! Concentrate on _one_ riddle at a time! And as Logan was sure to be the more complicated of the two, the Professor's puzzle was by far the easier to deal with first.

Today, she was determined to find that box! To surprise Logan and take great pleasure in seeing the look on his face when she handed him a nice, big-ole cigar. She liked making him happy. It made her happy. And just watching those heart-stopping hazel eyes of his crinkle at the corners as he smiled a pure unadulterated smile, was enough to make her melt into a gooey mass.

Logan was disappearing into the distance now, the sun possessively tracing his silhouette with golden light, giving him an otherworldly aura. It made him look like some fallen angel, beautiful and tragic, fighting inner demons as well as those, like the Brotherhood, on the outside...

She felt a pull on her heartstrings. Suddenly the need to be with him proved overwhelmingly intense.

She quickly stood up.

"Logan!"

The distant figure stopped and slowly turned, finely tuned hearing having no trouble picking up her cry.

As she hurried across the beach, the aura effect surrounding him gradually ebbed away, but he looked no less commanding. Wearing nothing but denim shorts, his body was bronzed to perfection, the deep tan flattering every finely chiselled muscle, each long strapping limb.

He looked amazing.

And VERY hot!

Marie's throat went dry as she drank him in like a fine wine. The aftertaste left her giddy.

"I..." She could barely get the words out. "I changed my mind."

He grinned smugly but she could tell that he was pleased. "Good. Then you carry this," he returned coolly as he shoved a small bag in her hands and then started off again.

She quickly pulled up alongside him. "Feels kinda squishy. What is it?"

"Bait."

She made a face. "Ewwwwwww!" and shoved it back into his arms.

He rolled his eyes good-humouredly. "Women!"

* * *

Ten minutes later Logan has set up the fishing equipment - not a proper rod, which had been regarded as a luxury item, but a basic hook and line - and had lain out his bait (a varying assortment of worms and slugs from the forest area, and the previous day's uneaten fish) beside him.

"Fish eat other fish?" Marie asked curiously, wrinkling her nose in distaste. The heat made the smell ten times worst. She sat a short distance away, on the edge of one of the lower rock faces, her legs dangling down into what appeared to be a small cove. It was beneath water at that moment, the surf surging back and fourth languidly, seemingly as laid back as the island itself, but she guessed that the tide would be going out very soon.

"Fish eat anythin', darlin'."

Logan's attentions were already focused on his float as it bobbed up and down contentedly, teased by the gentle waves. He had thrown the line on the other side of the cove, in deeper darker water, where the fish were more likely to linger. A slightly curving line of sparkling, sun-kissed rock, almost like a natural jetty, divided the two areas.

"I'll remember that next time I take a swim," she grimaced.

"Turn ya mutation on when ya do. Might be a quicker way to catch em," he threw back wittily.

Marie regarded him hopefully. "On the subject of swimming..."

"Don't even go there," he warned.

"Oh, come on. Take a dip with me. _Please._ Fair's fair. I've joined you fishing and now you should return the favour." Before he could respond she hastily added, voice sympathetic: "and I know what you said. About how you feel about water. And I do understand."

She really did. She hated what those bastards did to him! She had seen it in enough of her own nightmares to know the full extent of the pain Logan had suffered.

"But I promise you I'll make it fun. Make you forget any connection to...to that place." She gestured to the ocean. "How can you resist? This place is too beautiful for words."

She grinned. "And I also think you should prove to me that you really _can_ swim. Because I don't know if I believe you."

"You callin' me a liar?" he demanded, in a burst of mock-anger.

"You bet I am!" she insisted stubbornly.

Their eyes locked, neither backing down and he eventually sighed his defeat. "OK. _One_ swim. I pick what day though." He wagged a finger at her and she had to resist the impulse to reach across and bite it. "Now quit naggin'."

She smiled. She could always win the big lug over! "You won't regret it."

"Yeah, but you might," he predicted mysteriously.

"Oooh promises, promises!"

"Just keep your eyes on the damn float."

She sought it out. "Looks just like a stick to me."

"Yeah, well Chuck's _basic_ supplies wouldn't stretch to a proper float so I had ta make me own."

"What's the fancy feather for?"

"The colour attracts the fish."

"Really?"

"Really!" he teased.

"You're very inventive," she ribbed back.

"Yeah, well, when you've spent as much time in the backwoods as I have, ya develop a few skills."

She watched him fondly, particularly loving this side of Logan, always relishing the rare sparks of emotion it could provoke from him. Most people loved nature, it was only natural, but Logan's attachment to it almost bordered upon necessity. And like an animal losing its vigour when forced into captivity, being too long away from the wilds could do the same to Logan.

"You must be missing it," Marie pointed out softly. "You've been at the institute for a long time now without going off on any trips or anything."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "I miss it."

"Then why don't you go back?"

He was silent for a long drawn out second, eventually adding: "'cause I'd miss someone else more."

Although he continued to stare out across the ocean, giving nothing away, she knew he meant her and her heart soared. Desperate now to know what he had meant by the: _everything's changed_ written in his journal; his words gave her the extra encouragement she needed. She was about to just blurt it out when he abruptly stood up.

"Be back in a minute. Keep watchin' that float."

As he began to walk away she peered back at him in frustration, her nerve dissipating already. "Where are you going?"

He smirked back at her. "Nature calls, darlin'."

She blushed. "Oh, right."

Shoulders heaving in disappointment, she turned back to the ocean. Damn that man! Damn all men and their petty insecurities!

Leaning back on her hands she closed her eyes and dropped her head back to enjoy the sun on her face. The heat was simply glorious. She could stay like this forever.

She tutted, annoyed, trying to improve her position. Although these rocks were hard as hell against her ass.

She started. Hard?

Quickly opening her eyes she glanced wildly around her. Rocks!

Scooting forward she excitedly peered down between her dangling legs at the cove, at the swirls of surf sucking in and out of all the dips and gullies forged over the centuries...

Oh my god! She had it!

Soft and hard!

Water and rock!

The box was here! Somewhere! It had to be! At Logan's Lookout!

Her eyes drew inwards, realising that the falling tide was already starting to reveal a small section of wet pebbly sand. It seemed to extend back...like a narrow gorge with rocks either side...although she couldn't see how far back it actually went.

It was almost as if it might lead into a cave...

_Through this I know the advantage of taking no action._

The answers were coming to her thick and fast now.

Do nothing! Just wait until the tide goes out!

The box was in a CAVE!

She was so thrilled that she had worked out the Professor's riddle that she almost fell off the edge of the cliff. It wasn't too far down but still could've been a nasty fall.

She swept her gaze the length of the cove, noting the haphazard distribution of rocks, and wondered how the hell she was supposed to get down there? There _must_ be a way, for the box to have been put in the cave in the first place.

"Thought I told ya to watch the float!"

She gasped at Logan's voice and snapped her head back to meet his gaze.

His mild annoyance melted into concern. "Hey? You OK?"

She forced a smile, heart still racing from her discovery. "Fine! I'm fine, Logan!"

Nodding his satisfaction he resumed his position beside his bait.

Watching him, Marie chewed down upon her lip, perplexed. How could she search for the box without raising his suspicions? If she said she wanted to explore the area now, he was sure to want to accompany her in case she slipped on the rocks or something - he could be dreadfully over-protective at times. She couldn't go first thing in the morning before he awoke because the tide would still be in. Then he spent most ofhis time here during the day.

Damn it! Another conundrum!

Initial elation swiftly deflating, she dropped her chin into her hands gloomily.

Logan chuckled at her. "Cheer up, kid. You'll put the fish off bitin'."

Sticking her tongue out at him a grin snuck back across her lips. Not wanting him to suspect anything she looked thoughtful for a moment and then decided: "Tell me some more of those locker-room stories."

It was becoming too hot for any more thinking anyway, she decided sleepily. The treat-box could wait a little longer. The main thing was that she had worked out its location. Or at least she hoped she had. Right now, she fancied doing some listening for a while...and Logan's voice, sparing with words as he was, was a treat in itself.

"Come on...spill some more beans," she persisted. "Which of you has the biggest..."

He looked across at her in shock.

"...locker!" she giggled.

His chest seemed to puff out in pride. "Who d'ya think, darlin?"

It was her turn to be shocked...and kinda hopeful...because she didn't think he was talking about lockers either!


	5. Chapter 5

**_Day 18_**

Marie woke the next day with a plan already ripe and ready for the performing. She just had to wait for Logan to leave. It wasn't a very nice plan, was a little mean actually, but the only thing her useless brain had came up with.

It basically entailed: trash shelter, blame it on the pigs, get Logan to put it back together again, during which time she could search that cave. Simple.

Much to her frustration, however, he seemed in no hurry to start fishing.

"You fishin' again today?" she prompted, trying hard to keep the impatience from her tone.

"Dunno."

Squatting before the small fire, thigh muscles bulging deliciously, Logan was in the process of scraping the remains of breakfast from the saucepan. His look was one of sheer intensity as he meticulously covered every inch of the pan, allowing nothing to go to waste. Considering he claimed to hate porridge when they first arrived he was sure enjoying it now. Marie would have found it amusing if she wasn't so eager for him to make his exit.

She tried not to glare at him. "But you _always_ go fishing."

"Getting a bit sick of it now," he confessed rather pitifully. "I'm startin' to smell like a fuckin' fish."

OK, she decided calmly, concealing clenched fists behind her back. On to plan B. "Then can I ask a favour?"

He flicked his eyes onto her, then about to stick the spoon in his mouth.

She casually gestured to the shelter behind them. "Could you do some more modifications? There are a few bits of wood coming loose at the back and I don't fancy a repeat of that crab fiasco. The roof could also do with some reinforcements. The Professor warned that there could be the odd storm."

"Consider it done," Logan returned with a simple nod, and she guessed he was relieved to have something else to do besides catch fish.

She smiled triumphantly - now _that_ was easy. And it left her with less of a bad conscience than if she had trashed it and blamed it on the pigs. She mentally thanked men's obsessions with DIY.

But how long should she wait for the tide to go out?

They had slept in a little later that morning, having chatted around the fire until the wee hours. They had covered everything from past X-Men missions to Logan's cage fighting tactics and a whole lot more in-between. She had never known him to be so relaxed and at ease in conversation and attributed it to another miraculous effect that the island had over its inhabitants.

By the time they went to sleep she realised that despite having Logan in her head, she really didn't know him at all.

"Think I'll take this lot to the well," she started, rising to her feet to search for the string bag. She regarded the now spotless saucepan wryly. "Although I think you've cleaned most of it already!"

Grinning, Logan lightly tossed the pan down onto the sand and dropped the spoon into it. "Wanna hand?"

"No, that's OK. I can manage. You can make a start on the shelter."

"Yes, mam!" he teased.

Her hands dropped to her hips playfully. "Yeah...I'd like an extra room...a higher roof...and a window would be_ especially_ nice..."

"That's practically asking me to rebuild the damn thing!"

"Do you _have_ anything better to do?"

He ran a hand through his hair, perspiration slicking it back in a way that made it appear flatter and longer. "Nah," he admitted finally. "Guess not." He peered across at the shelter dutifully. "One window comin' up."

Satisfied, Marie snatched up the breakfast things, dumped them in the bag and flashed Logan a grateful smile. "Thanks! You're a sweetie!" she gushed, very tempted to mess up his hair as she passed. Resisting the impulse, instead she turned and pretended to set off in the direction of the well, hoping that it was just the sun burning into the back of her head and not two suspicious feral eyes. When she felt sure that she was no longer visible, she hooked the bag on a tree branch and hurried off for Logan's Lookout.

* * *

Frowning thoughtfully, Logan watched Marie go, trying hard not to ogle her ass in the process but failing miserably. Something wasn't right. Something...was wrong.

At least in the way she was acting. That ass was _beyond_ perfection.

He folded his arms across his broad chest. What was she up to?

She had been acting weird for a while now. Ever since she had joined him fishing yesterday morning.

A spark of concern burnt the back of his throat. Was it because of what he had said when they had been talking? That he hadn't gone back to Canada because he realised he would miss someone more? She was sure to have put two and two together - she was a smart kid. She would've known he meant her.

Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything. Perhaps he should've said more. But he was trying to build up to things slowly...

Poking a toe in the water, so to speak, before he took that ultimate no-turning-back plunge.

He turned his head in surprise. The ocean seemed to respond to his doubts, the surf sighing regretfully, whispering encouragement as it lapped back and fourth against the shore.

_Do-it_...it urged. _Do-it._

But the simple fact was, he didn't want to mess up. Too much was at stake. He didn't know what he'd do if he ever lost Marie.

He glanced back at the trees, in the direction she had gone, debating whether or not he should follow her. He then considered the shelter some more.

Oh hell. Perhaps he was just being paranoid. Over-protective. Too controlling?

He ducked into the shelter and made a beeline for the meagre supply of tools they had been left. Yeah, Logan, he growled into his subconscious, leave the kid alone and turn this piece-of-shit hovel into something half-decent!

* * *

Marie found herself once more at Logan's Lookout, on the edge of the low cliff face where she and Logan had fished the day before. Peering over the side to check out the tide situation, she grinned elatedly as she noted the tantalising pathway of wet pebbly sand - the foamy water declining quite quickly now. She did a mental high five with her inner Logan, who was enjoying these shenanigans almost as much as she was.

That box of treats was theirs for the taking!

She scampered back up to her feet and surveyed the rocky area, eyes noting a suspect dip about fifty feet away. Upon closer examination she was delighted to discover a discreet but manageable descent down into the cove.

Her training as an X-Man meant the modest climb posed no problems whatsoever and when she dropped gracefully down onto the softly yielding sand her heart began to race in anticipation.

The cave - and yes, she could definitely see it was a cave entrance now! - wasn't immediately accessible and she had to clamber over a challenging barricade of varying sized boulders first, some of which were draped in swathes of dangerously slippery seaweed. But taking it slow and being careful she soon reached her destination.

She felt unsettlingly anxious as she stood in front of the cave entrance. It was a little lower than shoulder height, and would've been too narrow for someone like Colossus to squeeze though. Logan might just make it, at a push. It was also kinda dark. Although that may have been because it appeared to curve inwards so her view of what might be inside was concealed slightly.

She chewed down upon her lip, suddenly wishing that she _had_ told Logan about the Professor's message after all. For she would happily let him go in first... But hey, she reminded herself. She was an X-Man now! They laughed in the face of fear...and little defenceless caves.

"Just do it," she whispered encouragingly. "'Cause the sooner you do, the sooner you can surprise Logan with those treats."

Taking a deep breath she stepped into the darkness.

* * *

Logan threw down the part-rusted saw and scrubbed a hand across his face, wiping away the beads of sweat from his forehead. Fuckin' useless tools! Scooter probably wore them down on purpose knowing that he wasn't supposed to use his claws. The poker-ass was probably having a laugh about it right now in the rec room with Storm and Jean.

He scowled irately, a trickle of perspiration trailing a feather-light path down his back, making him squirm. Well, screw that!

Snikt!

The 3 8inch claws glinted menacingly in the sunlight, itching to do some damage. Logan looked about him warily, almost as if he half expected Chuck to have installed surveillance cameras in the palm trees. Then he grinned deviously.

This was gonna get Marie's window made a whole lot quicker.

* * *

The path leading into the cave did indeed curve slightly and as she rounded the bend it became reassuringly yet unexpectedly lighter. She could also make out the sound of running water. Not lacking enough to be classed as a trickle, but not too powerful to become alarmed about.

Her excitement returned with a vengeance, chasing her fears away, as she stepped into the cave.

She gasped.

"Oh my god."

It was beautiful.

Like some magical oceanic grotto.

A sunken, slightly elongated pool of green-tinted water took centre stage, surrounded by low uneven platforms of strangely iridescent rock that also glowed green. Everything appeared to be coated in some sort of algae and light filtering in through several gaps in the rock only served to emphasise the bizarre phenomenon.

The source of the falling water she had heard turned out to be a small waterfall (she had found her romantic waterfall after all, she delighted!), tumbling down from a lower gap in the wall into the pool, and she wondered if it filtered in from that deeper darker water that Logan preferred to fish in. It was impossible to determine the location of anything from down here though and she was too enamoured of her surroundings to really care.

Although she hadn't forgotten about the box...

She glanced around her and it didn't take long to spy the treasure in one of the openings in the rock. About the size of a small beer crate (was there meant to be some irony in that, she wondered), it fitted the niche snugly, blocking much of the space and allowing only a few shivers of light to enter the cave.

She smiled happily. Bingo!

* * *

Logan suddenly retracted his claws and glared back in the direction he had last seen Marie.

The groove between his unruly brows curved downward and deepened. She would've finished washing the breakfast things by now, surely?

He shook his head in defeat. It was no good. He just _had_ to know what she was up to.

Dumping the half-finished window frame onto his shredded sleeping bag he turned and started off towards the forest, following the faintly lingering trail of her scent.

* * *

Now that the box had been located, for a while Marie was content to simply sit at the pool edge, idly swirl her feet in the cool water, and just soak up the atmosphere. She felt she had truly found one of nature's gems - the heart of this island paradise - and doubted she'd be so lucky again. She couldn't believe that she and Logan had been sitting practically on top of it, completely unaware of the secret the cliff concealed.

She glanced up at the box once more, wondering what secrets_ that_ might conceal and it was enough to goad her into action again.

Rising to her feet she skirted the edge of the pool (vowing that she was going to take a bath in it before the day was over) and used a suitably positioned rock to give her the step up she needed.

The box had been wedged in frustratingly tight and proved a struggle to move even an inch. Puffing out her cheeks she geared herself up, deciding to give it all the elbow grease she possessed, and began to tug with all of her might.

Only she pulled a little too hard.

Letting out a shriek Marie was propelled backwards by the sudden release of the heavy box from the rock. It soared safely over her head but both of them landed, with impressive splashes, into the centre of the pool.

For a few seconds all she could see was a rush of green bubbles as her head dipped below the water, but in the next instance she was inhaling air again, spluttering and cursing the Professor and stupid hiding places.

The treats! she despaired, as she quickly gathered her senses once more, and she prayed that the box was watertight. Wet hair plastered to her face like a second skin she turned just in time to see it sink below the surface.

Shit!

Yet something else also caught her attention. A sound...

Laughing...

As she met Logan's gaze his eyes were wet with tears. In fact, he was laughing so hard that he was bent from the waist and clutching desperately at his sides. When he could finally get the words out all he managed to blurt was: "What the hell are you doin', kid?"

"Drowning, for all you care!" Marie retorted childishly, slapping her hands down into the water.

"In a few feet? I don't think so, darlin'." He gestured to the submerged box curiously. "What's in the treasure-chest? Blackbeard's stash of gold bullion?"

"For your information, its some treats from the Professor. That may even contain a cigar or two!" That, Marie decided crossly, should wipe that smirk off his face!

Logan was in the pool and staking his claim before she had barely finished the sentence. She watched him in grudging amusement. "Hey! I found it!" she reminded sourly.

Logan heaved the box up through the water, grunting loudly as he deposited it, with a dull thud, onto the cave floor. "Yeah, but whose gonna carry it back to camp?"

Cocking her head to one side in an attempt to rid herself of the last traces of water from her ears, she smiled sheepishly. "Point taken."

Logan climbed effortlessly out of the pool, turned, and stretched out his hand. "C'mon, kid'. The sooner we get back the sooner we open that box."

Marie looked around her, reluctant to leave the cave so soon.

"Marie?" Logan prompted impatiently.

Realising that there was always tomorrow - and another ten more days after that -she finally offered him her hand. "If there aren't any cigars...you won't be _too_ mad will you?"

He shook his head, unconvinced, as he pulled her from the water. "There'll be cigars. Chuck wouldn't dare take the risk."

"Risk of what?"

Snikt!

"These, darlin'. Painfully inserted where the sun don't shine!"

Marie laughed. "Put those things away and start carrying!" But as she followed Logan back out into the cove she added: "Although if the Professor hasn't put any chocolate in there I might be willing to watch you perform such a punishment!"

Grinning from ear to ear, she shook her head in disbelief. She was soaking wet, painfully self-conscious and suffering from acute humiliation, but right now she was happier than she had been in a long time.

And to top it off, Logan's body looked even _more_ delicious when wet.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Day 19 - Unexpected Guests_**

Dawn...

It was a time that always made him feel alive, even when he didn't want to be. When night met its day, and darkness had no choice but to surrender its transient hold on the cycle of the heavens. It was a time when the world sighed its relief and welcomed the sun's warm embrace once more.

Logan was no different in his appreciation this morning, although it hadn't always been that way. Looking forward to a new day was something of a foreign concept to him. For as long as he could remember, time meant nothing, offered nothing but a racing, numbing, blur of bitterness fuelled by overwhelming rage.

Time had meant pain and he had no desire to endure it.

But life itself, time's co-conspirator in crime, twisted the knife in deeper. Wouldn't grant him the escape he yearned. Nature had the last laugh as it played its mocking games with his DNA.

Logan clenched his fists but quickly allowed them to relax and uncurl. He had come a long way. In the past, just thinking about his mutation would have resulted in him doing some serious damage to whatever objects were closest.

He managed a flicker of a smile. So it was ironic that he was now laughing right back, _thanking_ nature for the one thing that had stopped him from escaping the torment that was his life.

Correction...that _had_ been his life.

Because he realised that he was wrong. Had been wrong all along. That it wasn't dying that would grant him peace...

All it took was...

He closed his eyes, bare feet pressed firmly into the rainforest's lush vegetation, wondering if his heightened senses could pick up her breathing above all the other stirring forest sounds. He doubted that they were quite that acute but allowed his imagination to come into play, just this once.

His smile tugged a little wider. Yeah...there it was...soft and even and reassuring.

His Marie.

_She_ was what made him feel alive now. She was his new day.

Suddenly wanting to be there when she awoke, he decided to take a rain check on his meditation and headed back to the shelter.

* * *

"Wake up sleepyhead."

Still caught up in the last remnants of dream, Marie frowned at the sound of Logan's voice. It seemed achingly distant, as if he was speaking to her from a mobile phone with a very poor reception.

"Logan?" Her inner voice tried desperately to reach out to him, to pull herself out of sleep's heavy darkness and into the light of a new day.

She felt a tickling sensation on her forehead as she finally stirred awake. To her surprise, a strangely exotic perfume permeated up into her senses. Quickly bringing her hand up to investigate she met with a soft velvety texture.

"Hey, careful! You'll crush the damn thing!" Logan's voice seemed more amused than annoyed, however.

Blinking open her eyes she instantly met with a pair of intense hazel ones.

"What's this?" she murmured sleepily and lifted the object from her forehead. She let out a little gasp.

It was the most beautiful flower she had ever seen. About the size of her fist, with burnt orange elongated petals, black spidery veins and light terracotta tips. She sniffed - the smell was divine - hinting of an appealing combination of citrus and jasmine.

When she looked at Logan again, he smiled at her - that same, gentle, heart-stopping smile from a few days ago.

"An apology for laughin' at ya yesterday," he announced, seeming a little awkward.

She smiled back, her insides positively melting, but to her disappointment he stood up before she could thank him.

She sighed quietly beneath her breath. It was typical of Logan. The gesture was sincere but he had no intention of having it dwelt upon too analytically.

"I'll make breakfast this mornin'," he added, as he ducked out of the shelter and into the sunshine of what appeared to be yet another beautiful day.

Marie sat up in her sleeping bag and peered wistfully down at the flower, caressing one of the petals tenderly. Who'd have though the Wolverine could be so romantic? Surely this meant something more than just friendship? He had never given her flowers before. Even when she had been ill with a virus last spring, it had been a fruit basket he had plonked on her bed rather awkwardly, and not a bunch of flowers.

Practically tingling with delight, she placed the flower carefully by her side and stretched long and pensively - images of Logan's deep dark eyes and adorable smile continuing to linger in her thoughts.

At the same time her stomach rumbled loudly and peering down in amusement she was amazed that even after yesterday's major pig out, she could still feel hungry today.

She grinned. Ah! Yesterday! What a day! What a crazy but gloriously perfect day!

After her unexpected dip in the cave pool, she and Logan had hurried back to the shelter to get dried off and investigate that box, although throughout most of the journey Logan had teased her unrelentingly:

"So, ya were gonna keep all the loot to ya'self?"

"No, Logan. I was intending to surprise you with it!"

"Yeah, right. I believe ya."

"Honest!"

"Although I think it was worth all the deceit for the entertainment factor at the end."

"That _wasn't_ funny!"

"Was from where I was standin', darlin'!"

In hindsight, perhaps that flower had been well earned after all, she decided. The plunge in the pool had definitely been worth all the humiliation to be woken in such a beautifully romantic way.

Once they had changed into fresh clothes they had wasted no time in opening the box (cue six eager adamantium claws), and it had not disappointed, for her _or_ Logan. Despite his annoying choice of location, she had quickly reinstated her belief that the Professor was a sweetie - to their relief, he had insured it was watertight!

For Logan, after being deprived of beer and cigars for two whole weeks, it was as if all his birthdays (if he had known when they were!) and Christmases had come at once: a six pack of Molsen, a further six pack of the finest Cuban cigars, and a bottle of quality bourbon for good measure.

For herself, there were three bars of luxury Belgian chocolate: one white, one milk and one dark; a bottle of her favourite red wine; the latest copy of Cosmo and a travel sized bottle of shampoo (she had been forced to use the meagre bar of soap they used for washing, up until now, and spent most of her time with her hair tied back in a pony-tail to hide the dreadful condition!).

Finally, for them both, there had been a huge bag of Pirate Booty (pun intended, she guessed), two tins of good quality cooked meat, a box of savoury crackers and a couple of packets of choc chip cookies.

With that lot at their disposal she and Logan had ending up having one of their best afternoons yet!

He had been quite happy to continue the shelter modifications (plus one cigar protruding, almost comically, from his mouth, and a beer keeping cool in a saucepan of water!), and she had been quite happy to alternate between watching him work and reading her magazine as she stuffed herself silly with chocolate and biscuits.

The evening meal mainly consisted of meat and cheese biscuits, the former of which suited Logan fine, even if he did slightly frown upon the fact that the meat was tinned. When she had put in that at least it hadn't been Spam...or beef jerky...he had laughed and agreed.

That was another thing she had noticed about being here.

Logan laughed.

And, to her pleasant surprise...it sounded _incredibly_ sexy. Sent a whole torrent of shivers running down her spine.

She would never have believed that a man's laugh could turn her on so much!

Another surprise had been Logan's insistence that they should save the wine and bourbon for a later date. He had even given her one of his few beers to compensate. She had been too full of junk food to protest and the beer gave her a nice enough buzz to end the day anyway. Why he wanted to save them was a mystery...although it made her feel kinda positive for some reason.

The day had ended rather quickly after that, the alcohol and extra food making them both sleepy. She could remember sitting on the beach watching the sunset with Logan and saying how beautiful it was, and she thought she could recall him pulling her into his chest and saying something along the lines of: "not as gorgeous as the woman sittin' beside me." But she honestly didn't know if that had just been dream and could remember nothing more, falling into a blissful velveteen darkness - warm and safe and smelling of Logan and the salty tang of the surf. She guessed that he must have carried her back to the shelter and put her into the sleeping bag.

The thought made her giddy with anticipation.

"Ya porridge is ready!" she suddenly heard him call out and she realised that she must have been sitting daydreaming for a good ten minutes.

"On my way!" she called back happily.

* * *

When she returned from washing up the breakfast things at the well, Logan was sat, cross-legged, on the edge of the shore and at first she assumed he was meditating. He did that often, said it helped still his mind, and had even taught her a few basics, like selecting a suitable mantra and focusing upon it. She didn't quite possess his steely discipline but found it helpful to keep those extra identities, including his, in line within her head.

He twisted around, however, as she stepped from beneath the canopy of trees, as if he had been waiting for her. When she had dumped the string bag in the shelter and turned, he was already walking towards her. Grinning, he gestured extremely devilishly with his index finger for her to come over to him. The simple action made her mouth go dry - he looked dangerous, sexy and cute all rolled into one.

She regarded him warily. "What?"

"Come'ere."

"Why?"

"Come'ere!" he repeated, somewhat impatiently now.

She approached him nervously, checking that she could see _both_ his hands, concerned that he might want to deposit some gross jellyfish on her head.

She was only a short distance from him when he suddenly roared, making her scream out in shock, grabbed her, flung her over his shoulder and made a run for the ocean.

"Logan! What the fuck are you doing! Put me down!"

"Thought ya wanted to go swimming!"

Struggling in his arms, secretly loving every minute of his hands being so close to her ass, she continued squealing. "Not like this! Logan, don't you dare throw me in!" As the shelter grew smaller and smaller she began to panic. "Please Logan!"

He was splashing through the surf now, sending water spraying out in all directions. "Logan! I'm getting wet!"

"Thought that was the idea, darlin'?"

When the water reached his thighs and she could practically reach down and touch the surface, he stopped, although he continued to hold her tight. Her heart pounded in her ears, still recovering from the shock of his spontaneous actions more than anything, and she clung to him desperately. "Please don't drop me, Logan!"

He finally relented, releasing his grip slightly and allowing her to part slide, part wriggle, down his body. When she fleetingly caught his gaze, feet not quite on secure ground yet, his arms tightened around her again holding her in place. His eyes burned into hers. "Don't ya trust me?" he whispered, voice low and deep.

She could barely breathe as their gazes locked. "I've_ always_ trusted you," she returned softly.

Please, damn you - _kiss me!_ she begged into the silence of her mind. And for a split second the world seemed to stand still when she realised that he was about to do just that.

Which was why she didn't quite expect what _did_ happen next.

"Holy shit!" he hollered, almost deafening her in the process, hauling her roughly back over his shoulder again and this time unintentionally grabbing her ass in his alarm. "Shark!"

Shark?!

Her first-kiss-bubble promptly bursting, Marie felt terror gurgle up into her throat and passively allowed Logan to carry her, like a rag doll, back to the beach. When he dropped her unceremoniously onto the sand and turned to quickly look back out across the ocean again, she did the same, searching the sparkling waters for whatever had spooked him.

Sure enough, a fin was snaking its way menacingly through the water, the dark shadow of a sizeable fish gliding beneath.

"But the Professor said that sharks are rarely sighted around here!" she protested breathlessly, trying desperately to calm herself down now that she was safely on dry land. She shrugged her frustration. "Something to do with water current anomalies, I think!"

Logan was shaking his head. He looked sheepishly amused.

She found herself staring at him in bewilderment as that sexy laugh of his began to flood her senses once more. "Christ, I feel a right pansy-ass now!" he howled. He pointed at her and scowled. "Don't ya dare let on about this to anyone!"

She wondered whether she was still dreaming. This was all just a little too bizarre! "What _are_ you talking about?"

His pointing finger swept around to gesture to the ocean. "It's a fuckin' dolphin! Look!"

Wide eyed, she scanned the water, just in time to catch the fin submerge once more. "A dolphin?" she gushed, grinning ecstatically when its head peeked out through the calm surface. "Oh my god! It is! It is!" She knew that she sounded like an over-excited child, she was literally jumping up and down in delight, but she couldn't help it - she had always adored dolphins and had never seen any in the wild.

She suddenly felt Logan's hand slip into hers and she looked across at him in shock.

"Let's go say hello, shall we?"

She gaped at him in disbelief. He was suggesting that they...swim with dolphins? "Is it safe?"

"You ever heard of anyone getting eaten by a dolphin?"

"Er...no," she admitted.

His hand closed around hers reassuringly and she relished the warmth of his skin against hers. He had only held her hand once before, during a mission, when they had to climb over a wall and he had given her a pull up. But they had both been wearing gloves that time. 'An' I promised ya a swim. C'mon."

He tugged her forward with him giving her no time to protest and they waded tentatively back through the water, slower this time, so as not to frighten the dolphin.

Marie looked about her, disappointed. "I think he might have gone."

"He'll be back," Logan insisted. "I've heard that they like interaction with humans."

Marie grinned. "Hope he won't mind the mutant variety."

For a fleeting moment Logan looked bitter but then contentment settled into his eyes. "That's what I like about the wilds, animals don't judge. They either just accept ya..." he smirked mischievously. "Or eat ya!"

Marie clicked her teeth. "Thanks for making me feel at ease!" But then she suddenly caught sight of that dark shadow again, skimming impossibly fast through the ocean about a hundred metres from where they stood, hip deep in the water. "There are two of them!" she gasped, spotting a second, smaller shadow by its side.

She could sense Logan's smile. "There sure is, kid." And she had never heard such awe in his tone. He seemed as overwhelmed as she was.

She squeezed his hand apprehensively and shuffled nearer to him. "They're moving closer, Logan. I'm...I'm a little scared."

"Just relax, Marie; let 'em check us out."

She took a deep breath. "Ok."

In the next instant one of the dolphins poked its head out of the water a short distance away. It appeared to watch them for a few seconds before diving again, tail slapping the surface on its way down.

"They always look as if they're smiling," Marie blurted animatedly, feeling as if she had taken a hit of something. Despite standing doing nothing, her adrenaline was pumping as hard as if she were working out in the Danger Room.

Logan looked at her and winked. "Perhaps they are," he teased.

"Oh look - here they come again!" Marie braced herself as they cut effortlessly through the waters straight for them, changing direction at the last minute to swim around instead.

Marie turned as fast as the restricting water would allow her to, not wanting to lose sight of them. "Are they trying to scare us?"

Logan shook his head. "Nah, they're just playin'."

And play they did.

For the next hour and a half, Marie was in a constant state of wonder as she and Logan swam (he _could_ swim!) and kidded about, sometimes with the dolphins near by, sometimes alone. At one stage the larger of the dolphins even moved close enough to allow her to stroke its smooth head. When they finally disappeared off toward the horizon Marie found herself choking back emotion, feeling as if she had connected with something truly amazing. First the cave...now the dolphins...whatever next?

As they crossed the beach and headed for the shelter Logan gently touched her arm. "Hey? You OK?"

She smiled across at him, barely able to focus through the held back tears. "Just a little overwhelmed," she admitted. "It's not every day you swim with dolphins." She swiftly composed herself. "How about you? How did you feel swimming...it didn't remind you...?"

"It felt good," he cut in. "An' was easier than I thought it would be." He shrugged, trying to retain a casual air. "The dolphins were a bonus."

"A bonus?" she spat in mock disgust. "The dolphins were _amazing!"_ she corrected, dreamily. "Just amazing!" Her eyes widened hopefully. "Do you think they'll come back?"

"I'd count on it."

"Would you...would you come swimming again if they do?" She was eager to repeat their session in the water. Besides spending time with the dolphins and exploring some of the breathtaking reef, Logan, being Logan, had insisted on teaching her some combat tactics should she ever find herself facing an enemy in water...

In fact, he had seemed so intent on coming up with excuses to innocently touch her that she had been very sorry to have it all end.

Unfortunately, she didn't have a healing factor like his, which compensated for the dehydration effect of the salty water, and after only an hour was dangerously close to turning into a human prune.

"You can count on that too," he promised, voice taking on a huskier tone, and his eyes seemed to say that he was sorry that the touching had to end too.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Day 20 - Decisions are Made..._**

Logan was fishing again. It wasn't by choice but rather necessity. They had polished off the last of the tinned meat yesterday, at dinner. And most of the crackers. He sighed regretfully. Beer and cigars all gone too. Marie said that he should have spaced them out a bit, so that they lasted longer, but fuck that - _two weeks_ he had been deprived!

He tried to concentrate on his float but was more preoccupied than usual this morning. His gaze dropped to the dark granite of the cliff floor.

She was down in the cave again - said she liked it down there - and he had to admit that the idea provoked some damned fine images. He could just imagine her lounging in that pool, like some exotic water siren - dark hair spread out seductively in the water, those white streaks of hers tinted green by that weird algae effect going on down there.

Whatever scenario, he realised that she was constantly on his mind now. Ironically, as much in _his_ head as he was in hers. Was this what being in love was like? That they imprinted themselves into every thought, every dream, every waking moment?

He forced himself to focus back upon his float but the glistening water was distracting. Kept teasing and manipulating his vision making him lose sight of it.

Admitting defeat his eyes flicked down to the cliff again and he wished his mutation would allow him to penetrate through the rock and take a peek at her.

Yeah...she was spendin' most of her time in the grotto now (as she liked to call it). Readin' her magazine and nibblin' that chocolate of hers.

He smirked.

An' it had sparked a plan.

Somethin' she was gonna love.

Only thing was, it was gonna mean going against Chuck's rules - and not even secretly. He was gonna have to ring the Prof on that emergency mobile they had been given and tell him exactly what he intended to do. Exactly what he needed.

He ran a hand through his hair, distractedly, taking the dishevelled look to a whole new level.

But then he had never been one for following rules. Hadn't_ not_ used the claws, had he? And he had thrown that journal in the ocean a few days ago when he started getting' too heavy with words - too deep with feelin's.

What was the point of writin' it all down anyway - he had to put those feelin's into action.

Hell, _action_ was what he was best at!

And now was as good a time as any, since Marie would be well out of earshot.

Securing his fishing line around a small rock, he stood up.

To his surprise he felt kinda excited as he headed back to the shelter.

One phone call comin' up.

* * *

Marie sighed contentedly as she turned the page of her magazine. At the same time, she reached across for another piece of chocolate and popped it into her mouth, savouring undiluted perfection as it slowly melted upon her tongue.

Ah! This was the life! This-was-the-life. A good read, dreamy location and chocolate. What more could a girl want?

Her eyes flicked up to the ceiling and she smiled gently, picturing Logan fishing above. No doubt frowning out to sea as he pondered some dilemma or tortured himself with some inner demon.

Her eyes brightened hopefully. Or perhaps not. Not now. He really was a changed man. It was amazing what two weeks in a set up like this could do. How it could penetrate deep down into the soul and iron out all those emotional kinks.

Captivated by the jade-green play of reflections cast by the water she prayed that this would be the case with Logan. As intensely as she wanted him, she wanted him to be at peace. And, as hard as it would be, if ever the former had to be sacrificed for the latter, she would gladly do it.

* * *

Logan shooed the wild pigs away from the shelter, wishing that Marie wouldn't keep feeding them scraps, and went in search of the phone, finally locating it beneath a spare blanket at one corner of the makeshift room. Pulling it out of its leather case he flipped up the cover and glared restlessly down at the display.

He groaned.

One Eye was gonna have a field day with this, damn him.

Before he could change his mind he pressed speed dial to connect to the Professor.

* * *

Marie turned with a start, staring, wide-eyed, in the direction of the cave entrance. It had sounded like one of the dolphins, she was sure of it. That strange clicking noise they made. Had they come back?

Abandoning her magazine beside the remains of the chocolate she waded across the pool and quickly climbed out, an excited smile plastered upon her face.

Blinking in the sunshine, she shadowed her face with her hand and surveyed every inch of the ocean.

Her smile wavered.

Nothing.

Remaining hopeful, she clambered onto one of the rocks for better viewing.

Her smile died. Still nothing. The water was as still and as flat as a mirror.

Her brows pulled inwards with disappointment. She must've been imagining things. Downhearted, she turned to go back into the cave...

She hesitated.

What was that? Floating on the water?

A short distance away, bobbing up and down on the gentle waves, seemingly caught between two small rocks, appeared to be...she frowned in puzzlement...a book?

Whatever was a book doing out in the middle of the ocean?

Her frown deepened as realisation dawned.

Logan's journal! The big cheat had dumped it into the sea! And after all that time she had spent searching for it in the forest too!

Her curiosity giving way to anger - and frustration that he had given up so easily - she was suddenly intent upon retrieving it. Carefully treading her way across the weed-strewn boulders, following the narrow jetty the rocks formed, she crouched down and reached out for the book.

Three attempts later...

Got it!

Snatching up the journal she pulled it from the water, its sodden pages hanging limply from the spine, threatening to fall back into the sea.

Oh Logan - how could you!

Standing up she tried to shake some of the water away but knew it was hopeless - the book was completely ruined. Trying to flick through the pages proved just as fruitless; any writing there might have been was now unreadable.

She'd never know whether Logan had written anything now.

Unless you just ask him, a little voice in her head reminded.

"What ya doin' down there, kid?"

Logan's voice startled her and she turned with a start and stared up at the cliff where he was fishing.

Arms folded across that gloriously naked chest, he stood watching her, a concerned look upon his face.

She held up the journal, giving him a chastising glare.

There was a long moment of strained silence as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and lowered his gaze, unable to meet Marie's eyes. It was a habit he seemed to have developed during moments of discomfiture and despite her annoyance a part of her found him irresistibly cute at that moment.

"Logan?" Marie prompted, frostily.

He finally met her stare. "It wasn't for me, kid. I just aint a writin' sort of guy."

She sighed gently but found her frustrations swiftly melting away. She returned a small, apologetic smile. "No. No, I know you're not," she accepted quietly, admitting to herself that sometimes she expected more of Logan than he would ever be willing to give.

She peered down at the journal one final time before tossing it back into the sea. It seemed symbolic somehow, like she had finally taken him off that pedestal and accepted him for the man he was. Not the hero, or the X-Man, or the rough invincible cage fighter. Just Logan.

Someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

The sun was claiming him possessively again, wrapping him in that ethereal glow that had so enchanted her a few days ago. She grinned whimsically. He almost looked as if he had a halo around that unruly head of hair.

"Hey, be careful down there, Marie!"

As she started back along the jetty she rolled her eyes at his over-protectiveness, yet at the same time she loved it because it made her feel safe and warm and so very happy...

She was still smiling as fate's deceptiveness steered her step toward a clump of dried out seaweed draped innocently across her path. Flicking back her hair, she was oblivious to the fact that beneath it, plumper, fresher weed was concealed. Her face twisted in horror as the rocks gleefully rushed up to greet her. As pain overwhelmed her senses and her vision became stained with red.

As the world turned dark.

"Marie!"

Logan practically threw himself off the cliff edge down into the cove, landing in a squat onto the wet sand. Scrambling up and across the rocks he dropped to Marie's side, scooping her limp form up into his arms and turning her as carefully as his haste would allow.

A nasty gash on her forehead was bleeding profusely and as he moved her a little more, a trickle of blood ran down the side of her face to stain the white streaks of her hair.

"No," he whispered in despair.

He sought out a pulse in her throat and found it alarmingly weak. "Christ, no. No!"

It was Liberty Island all over again.

He didn't think. Didn't hesitate. A second later his lips were crushing down upon hers. Willing her back. Begging her not to leave him.

Nothing happened.

Switch that fuckin' mutation on, baby, he cursed into the silence of his mind. C'mon.

He had no idea how it worked now that she could control it, whether it would remain switched off whilst she was unconscious, so when the pull finally came he was so overwhelmed with relief that he barely registered the pain scorching through his limbs.

That's it, kid. Take what ya need...

She was gonna be all right. That was all that mattered.

It was Logan's turn to surrender to darkness and he welcomed it with open arms.

* * *

"Logan! Please wake up!"

Marie guessed immediately what had happened, having discovered blood on her face and in her hair, but no wound. She had slipped on the rocks, knocked herself out and Logan had healed her. Like before, at Liberty Island.

She had woken to find him laying beside her, unconscious but breathing soundly enough to hesitate before calling the X-Men for assistance.

Or was she just being selfish?

She knew that if they came to the rescue it would all be over. She could hardly bare the thought of leaving the island as it was, but to leave early...before ...before...

She knew Logan loved her. She had absorbed enough of his recent memories to know that now. But it was important that _he_ made that first move. Not because of some romantic notion on her part but for _him_. And he was so close...it was there in _her_ head now: his secret little plan...that phone call to the Professor. She almost felt bad that she had spoilt the surprise.

But would everything change if they returned to the institute now? She knew he found it stifling. That he couldn't always relax enough to be himself. She also knew that he was concerned how the other X-Men would react to a relationship between them.

Would he just run again? Give up on _them_, like he had the journal?

She felt the tears prick at her eyes. Had the island's healing powers had enough time to penetrate deep enough?

She looked about her anxiously. She had to make a decision. And soon. The tide was eventually going to come in again. Not for a while yet, but she had no idea how long Logan was going to be out. And although he did seem OK, she didn't have enough medical knowledge to be one hundred percent certain of his condition.

Her selfishness could lose him and she wouldn't risk that.

Ever.

She brushed a lock of stray hair from his face and reached down to gently kiss his cheek. He had a beard now, being unable to shave, and the hairs tickled her lips. "I'll be back in no time at all," she whispered softly. She hesitated before adding: "I love you, Logan. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you."

Leaning back on her heels she took a deep breath, finally standing up determinedly.

She had a call to make.


	8. Chapter 8

**_ONE YEAR LATER..._**

Back in his study, Professor Charles Xavier smiled knowingly to himself as he stared out of the window, admiring the night sky. It was the end of another fine wedding and although none of them had been his own children, he still couldn't help but feel the proud father figure.

Jean and Scott last month and now Marie and Logan. All married on the island. That place had exceeded all of his expectations.

His smile tugged wider as he thought back to the excitement that had buzzed through the school when the couple's had first delivered the news.

Jean and Scott's wedding had been inevitable but Marie had returned with Logan from a trip to Canada with an engagement ring on her finger. It had been quite an unexpected, but pleasant surprise.

Jean and Marie, both being Austen fans, had wanted a double wedding but quite naturally, Scott and Logan had balked at the very idea. Perhaps, in hindsight, it was better that way - a double honeymoon on the island might have proven a little...difficult.

But the setting had been wonderful for the actual ceremonies and celebrations that had followed, and almost all of the residents of the Institute had been there to partake in the happy events.

He sighed contentedly.

So much joy had resulted from such...

His brow arched craftily...

...such a _small_ amount of deceit.

He glanced across at a tall pewter tankard, filled with pencils, located upon his desk top. The very same tankard that had been used for the monthly drawing of names.

No one knew. No one would ever know. It would remain his wicked little secret until one day...one day, he might _finally_ decide to confess it to one of their children.

The fact that he had purposely kept back Marie and Logan's names from each draw. And then ensured that they were the only names drawn on that fateful day. Of course, the fact that he was the draw-master ensured his plans were a success.

His smile widened and he chuckled quietly to himself as he leant back in his wheelchair. Fingers pressed together reflectively, he indulged himself with a rare moment of smug satisfaction.

Ah...it was fun to play God every now and then.

* * *

"Logan...the blindfold is kinda redundant, don't you think? I _know_ what you've done. I ended up absorbing your little plan the last time we were here, remember?"

"Maybe I like seein' ya in a blindfold."

She felt Logan pinch her backside and she giggled. "Ooooooh kinky!"

"Should know that by now," he teased huskily into her ear and she shivered at the feel of his warm breath against her skin.

Allowing him to guide her into the cave she could already imagine the scene but Logan seemed to hesitate beside her. "Are you going to take this thing off, or am I going to stand here in my wedding dress all day?" she teased impatiently.

Logan carefully removed the piece of ivory cloth - what had been the beaded sash around the waist of her dress.

When Marie's eyesight had adjusted, she gasped. Her imagination hadn't done this place justice! It was like discovering the cave all over again.

"Oh, Logan..."

The grotto had been filled with what seemed like hundreds of candles - every little nook and cranny lit up with a golden glow to complement the green effect of the algae. The end result was magical...she shivered in anticipation...yet undeniably erotic too and she felt her heart begin to race.

"Bobby helped out a bit," Logan revealed as he gestured to an overflowing ice bucket with a huge bottle of champagne wedged inside. "And Yella lit the candles."

"Jubes hates you calling her that," Marie laughed. "I'm surprised she even offered to help."

Logan shrugged. "Must be my animal magnetism."

"Or the fact that you OK'ed _yellow_ bridesmaid dresses!"

"Hey, darlin...I only had eyes for _you_. She could've been stark naked and it woulda' made no difference!"

"Sure! _I _ believe you!" Grinning, she turned her attentions back to the grotto, her heart simply bursting with happiness.

"It really is breathtaking," she sobbed, tears welling up into her eyes for the second time that day. The last time had been when Kurt had announced them _man and wife._

Logan had moved away a little and was watching her intently. "Nah - _you're_ breathtaking, baby."

She felt his eyes wandering over her, admiring the long, figure hugging, off the shoulder gown she wore; the way her hair was piled upon the top of her head and decorated with flowers and pearls to match her choker and earrings; and especially the way her generous cleavage strained against the bodice of her dress...an extra little touch she had added just for him.

"You're going to ruin this dress, aren't you?" she despaired, regretfully, wishing she had changed her clothes before coming here.

"Nah...I promise." He grinned wickedly. "Just gonna get it...a little wet."

Her eyes followed his, to the small waterfall that tumbled down into the pool.

"Twelve months I've been thinkin' about this place," he confessed. "Twelve long fuckin' months I've been imaginin' what I was gonna do to you when we finally returned..."

Marie thought back to their recent travels throughout Canada. Logan _had_ run when they had returned to the Institute, but he had insisted that _she_ come with him. And come she had! She had lost her virginity to him a week later, in front of a roaring fire, inside a cosy cabin in the Rockies. "Well, it isn't as if we haven't had plenty of practice during that time, sugar..." she pointed out, that southern drawl of hers thickening and making Logan's eyes light up with desire.

He pulled off the bow of his tuxedo and flung it into the pool. "I told you, darlin'. I'm a man of _action_, not words."

Marie stalked over to him and started undoing his shirt buttons. "Just the way I like it," she purred.

THE END


End file.
